He Wanted More
by Bm89
Summary: Tuckson one shot, by request. Inspired by The Dress. Rated M for a reason. Enjoy :)


**A/N: One shot by request, inspired by the dress that set social media ablaze this week. Tucker may not be at the event they're pictured at, but in this world, he is…**

 **YUGE shoutout to JennBenson for her help in perfecting this number. On second thought, help actually doesn't seem like a strong enough word. Thanks for feckin' co-writing this thing, Jeff.**

 **Without further ado, grab some ice water & enjoy… (If you have any requests, shoot me a PM here or tweet me at bonosaurus. If I can do it, I will!)**

 **##**

Ed stands toward the back of the room gripping his drink, half-heartedly participating in small talk with an old IAB buddy. He smiles and nods appropriately, barely listening as the Sergeant rattles off story after story about his kids. Meanwhile, Ed's attention is focused solely on her.

He smirks, watching her schmooze with the stuffed shirts that make their lives a living hell from the top of the ladder. She hates these events. But right now, she's playing a role. She is Lieutenant Olivia Benson. Decorated Commanding Officer of one of the most elite units in the department.

But the Lieutenant's badge is not all there is to her. Far from it, and his chest unconsciously swells with pride knowing how much of her she's allowed him to see since they got together. She has entrusted him with all of her: the cop, the mom, the survivor, and the woman.

And what a woman she is.

Olivia must feel his gaze upon her because her attention falters and her eyes are searching until they find his, already fixed on her. He winks subtly and she tries to fight a smile before rejoining her conversation.

He doesn't miss the furtive glances she keeps sending his way, as if she's making sure he's still there, still with her.

He's not going anywhere.

His eyes rake over her; he's mesmerized by the way her dress hugs her curves. Even in yoga pants and one of his old NYPD t-shirts, she's always stunningly beautiful. But tonight… The dress she chose compliments her tanned, olive skin perfectly. It's a shade of purple he can't be bothered to know the name of. All he knows is it is hugging each and every one of her curves just right, and the way it hits at her knee shows him just enough of her long, shapely legs to leave him, and probably every other red-blooded man in here, wanting more.

They can look all they want. She's going home with him tonight.

She adjusts the fabric that falls delicately from her right shoulder and he smirks, remembering how he'd used that to gently pull her into his body earlier, how she'd lightly smacked his chest to admonish him, despite the sparkle of amusement he could see in her eyes.

She knows the power she wields.

He takes a sip of his drink, enjoying the burn of the bourbon as it slides down his throat, and watches her flick a stray hair out of her eye with a careful finger. She's parted her hair to the side, and the way it hangs over her right eye, just slightly, adds an allure to her already heart-stopping mystique.

She looks almost Old Hollywood, and he can't get enough. She is gorgeous. In and out. Mind and body. And he wants her.

Ed wanted her out of that dress as soon as he zipped her into it before they left her apartment this evening. He wanted to bury his face in her neck the second she dabbed that perfume, the bottle he'd bought her in Paris, behind her ears. And as she drove him to distraction, commanding his undivided attention from across the crowded ballroom, all he could think about was how much he wanted - no, _needed_ \- to get her home.

 **##**

"Enjoying yourself, Lieutenant?" The Chief smiles at Olivia as she approaches the bar and she hands her glass to the bartender, leaning in to give him her order before she responds.

"It hasn't been bad," she hedges. She hates these things. But, with power came responsibility. Or so he'd told her.

Dodds nods, a small smile on his lips and he looks at her, arching dramatically to see around her. "Where's your other half?"

Her eyes scan the room again, but no dice. It's just as well. She doesn't _feel_ him in here anymore. "I seem to have lost him…"

"Ah, well, I'm sure you'll find each other," he slurs, taking another sip of what looks like scotch.

"Thanks, Chief. Go easy," she cautions him with a smile, eyeing the harsh liquid in his glass.

The bartender hands her a drink and she takes it, making her way out of the ballroom and into the wide hallway outside. Turning her head left and right, she's surprised there are not more people out here – if for no other reason than to get away from the dull roar emanating from inside the ballroom. That many small conversations going on in an enclosed space at one time, it was near deafening.

She sees a sign directing smokers toward a terrace and on a whim she heads in that direction. Smoking wasn't a habit Ed was at the mercy of anymore – she'd insisted because of Noah – but she knew he still smoked socially, or if he was really stressed.

She pokes her head out the door and has to swallow back the cough that threatens to escape, the cloud overwhelming.

Cole Draper, Ed's old IAB partner is puffing on a cigar in the far corner and he calls out to her. "Olivia! You're a sight for sore eyes."

She smiles warmly. "Hi, Cole. You seen Ed recently?"

He shakes his head. "Can't say I have, not since the ballroom."

"Alright. I'll find him. Thanks." He nods and she ducks back inside, taking a deep pull of the fresh air in the hallway.

 **##**

She stands in the hallway for a moment, plotting her next move. She doesn't want to go back into the ballroom, get sucked into more meaningless conversations - she just wants this night to be over and for Ed to take her home and—

 _Pst_.

She looks to her right, where she thinks the noise came from, craning her neck to see around a large potted plant.

Nothing. It's surprising, actually, how little activity is going on in this hallway considering the volume of people in the ballroom just a little further down.

 _Pst_.

This time it's harsher, more forceful. Hearing it again, she knows that rasp anywhere.

"Ed?" she whispers, her eyes are searching to the left now.

"Here…"

"Where is _here_?" she asks. She grows frustrated before she sees the door the unisex bathroom open wider down the hall and he leans out into the hallway, jerking his head to signal her to come closer. "What are you doing? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he assures her as she makes her way toward him. "Just c'mere."

As soon as she's close enough, he reaches for her and pulls her gently into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her and pressing her up against it.

"Oh," she gasps at the impact, her hands immediately grasping his forearms to steady herself. The look in his eyes is practically feral and her breath catches when she hears the lock click. "Ed…"

Before she can say anything else, his lips have captured hers and she releases a guttural groan into his mouth, her grip tightening on his forearms as he presses his body firmly against her. His tongue parts her lips and he tilts his head, opening his mouth wider over hers and roughly exploring her mouth with his tongue.

When the kiss breaks, they are both panting, and he moves his mouth to her ear. "Do you have any idea," he whispers, nuzzling his nose into the perfectly coifed waves of her soft brown hair, "what you do to me?" He bites her earlobe as his mouth makes its way to her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and his hands grip her hips firmly as she moans. "…How much I love you? How badly I want to get you home?"

He doesn't give her time to respond before he's kissing her again, just as fervently as before, and he moans when he feels her tongue start to fight back against his, seeking control. Her hands slide up and underneath his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and forcing him to remove his hands from her body, albeit briefly. When they return, he squeezes her breasts before blazing a trail down her body to her upper thighs and her forehead falls to his shoulder. "God, baby…"

"But until then…" he ignores her, his voice is thick with desire and the sound of it makes her bite her lip to suppress a moan. They have barely done anything yet and she's on the verge of breaking a sweat.

Olivia needs him to touch her. She needs something, anything to relieve the pressure that's already building between her legs. "Ed," she rasps. "I need you…"

The way his name sounds on her lips makes him even harder and he's on the edge of what little control he has when it comes to her. He drags his hands down her thighs until he reaches the hem of her dress, and he gathers the material in his hands, hiking it to the middle of her thighs before he yanks upward, making her gasp as her dress settles above her hips.

He looks down at her black lace panties, letting the back of his hand trail over her, feeling the heat radiating from her core. She whimpers, her breath coming in pants as she watches him watch her.

"I want to taste you," he declares. He fingers the waistband of her panties and thinking his next move is the slide the garment down her legs, she squirms against the wall in anticipation. But when two hands grip the material and tug gently but forcefully, her eyes widen in realization and she hears the corresponding rip of the fabric before it falls down her legs and she feels the whisper of cool air against her exposed core, making her shiver.

Ed crouches down slightly and wraps his hands around the backs of her thighs, lifting her in one quick movement. She wraps her arms around his neck and squeezes her thighs into his hips to help him on the short journey to the counter where he deposits her and she hisses from the cold of the granite against her bare behind.

He rests a hand on the side of her neck, his thumb rubbing her cheek. "You okay?"

Leaning into his touch, she pulls his head down to hers and nods as she kisses him, prying his lips open with her tongue and reaching between them intending to undo his belt, grazing his erection with her hand as she does. His reflexes are quick, and a hand on her wrist stops her movement. When she pulls her lips from his and looks at him quizzically, he shakes his head, caressing her face and gently leaning her back against the mirror. "I want to taste you," he repeats.

He kneels before her, positioning one thigh on his shoulder and holding her other leg to the side to open her up further. Olivia's breathing is labored and she adjusts her positioning, holding her weight partially on one forearm and partially against the mirror as she waits, quivering in anticipation.

##

Ed hovers over her center, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her arousal, but when he finally lowers his mouth to her, he doesn't start off slow. There's no gradual introduction of his tongue to her lower lips. Rather, he attacks her clit with his mouth, circling the nub, flicking it, until she palms the back of his head, giving herself the illusion of control.

She is completely at his mercy, though. And they both know it.

He can hear her trying to suppress moans, trying to be mindful of people who might be out in the hallways. But he doesn't care about them.

This is about her.

Them.

He comes up for air, his face already glistening with her arousal, and she looks down her body at him with hooded eyes, wondering why he's stopped.

"Let me hear you, Liv."

And when his tongue finds her clit again, mercilessly, the sound she releases from her throat reverberates in the small room.

He teases her, bringing her just to the edge before slowing his ministrations, his kisses drifting toward her inner thighs — anywhere but where he knows she needs the attention.

Her fingers dig into the back of his head. "God," she gasps. "Ed… I need - fuck, that feels good…"

It feels like his tongue is everywhere, all at once - flicking her clit, teasing her entrance, penetrating her. He is always one step ahead of her; determinedly refusing to set a rhythm or pattern, ensuring she can't anticipate his next move. He eagerly laps at her juices as her body reacts to him, moaning against her in appreciation of her taste.

Ed sucks her clit between his lips, flicking his tongue over the engorged bud until she's spasming beneath him. His hands grip her thighs to keep her from closing her legs around his head, and somewhere in between her moans and calls to God and Jesus and Ed, the heel that had been dangling precariously on the edge of her toes falls to the ground with a clatter as her leg jerks violently from her release. Her other foot, the one over his shoulder, digs deeper into his back. She doesn't know if it is her heel that causes him to groan against her, or the flood of arousal he's just coaxed from her body, but the vibration against her still-pulsating bundle of nerves is enough to elicit a particularly strong aftershock. It makes her put a hand on his head to push him away, desperate for a second to recover.

"Fuck, Ed," she pants. "Oh, _God_ , I love you…" She falls back against the mirror and closes her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Beads of sweat slide down the side of her face and between her breasts, and she wonders fleetingly what she looks like right now, if she'll be able to walk back into the ballroom without everyone knowing exactly what happened in here.

Olivia's hand slides from his head and she moves to sit up to try and pull herself together, but Ed's grip tightens on her thigh. She looks at him questioningly and her breath catches when she looks into his eyes. His pupils are still so widely dilated, his eyes are nearly black with arousal.

"Not good enough, Liv," he growls. "I need more."

Before she can react, his mouth is on her again. She yelps, a hand flying to his head again, though she can't tell whether she's trying to push him away or pull him closer. She's still so sensitive. But… _fuck_ , his mouth is working wonders against her.

"Ed," she begs, her face contorting into a grimace from the pleasure. "I can't…"

"Yes, you can." She feels fingers slide inside of her and she's almost embarrassed at how load she moans at the unexpected, though not unwelcome, intrusion.

She's writhing beneath him, as much as one can writhe on a bathroom counter, and he's not holding back. His mouth is sucking hard on her clit as he pumps his fingers steadily, in and out, wantonly.

Periodically, he moans against her and the vibrations send shockwaves all the way down to her toes. On the heels of a powerful first orgasm, she knows she's not going to last much longer.

Ed curls his fingers inside of her, and he's hitting that spot - the one that's going to make her fall to pieces. A couple more strokes, with the way his mouth is moving over her with abandon, and she's done for. Putty. Jello.

He looks up as his hands and mouth continue to work her over, and he almost comes in his pants at the sight of her, squeezing her own breast over her dress, eyes shut tight, biting her lip against the torrent of pleasure that's about to burst through the dam. He feels her inner walls start to flutter around his fingers and he knows she's almost there.

Eyes closed, she loses herself not only in the sensations he's sending rippling through her body, but also the noises. The way he hums as he pleasures her, the wet sound of his tongue as it slides along her slick folds, his fingers rapidly pushing in and out of her. It's carnal. And the heady combination of all of these things is what finally sends her over the edge again.

The force of her orgasm is almost shocking to her, and she lurches forward, hunching over him, frozen as wave after wave crashes over her. Her limbs are shaking. She can't get a good, deep breath. It's paralyzing.

Ed slowly pulls his fingers from her core, licking them clean before turning his attention back to her center, sheening with the remnants of her arousal. He gently cleans her, being careful not to cause her too much discomfort where she's still sensitive. Though she's still breathless, he can hear her breathing start to regulate and he leans his head against the thigh that is draped over his shoulder, tenderly running a hand up and down her other leg to help her relax.

"That's more like it," he says softly, smirking.

She huffs out a laugh, tiredly shaking her head. He has wiped her out. "You damn near killed me."

He presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh and he smirks when the sensation makes her gasp. "I don't hear you complaining, Lieutenant."

"And you won't," she retorts. He stands, careful to ensure she's still being supported by the countertop in case her legs are still wobbly, and she pulls him closer. Her hands drift down to his belt buckle again and she tugs suggestively, eyeing the erection that has been tenting his dress pants since he locked her in here. One way or another, he's going to have to take care of that. "And you?"

He groans, unable to stop himself from grinding his hips against her body and threading his fingers through the damp hair at the back of her neck. His voice is a harsh whisper against her ear. "You have no idea how bad I wanna be inside you right now." She whimpers, trying to move her head to get to his lips, but she stills when he kisses her ear, silently telling her he's not done. "But…not here, baby. I don't want to… _fuck_ you in a hotel bathroom. I want to do this right. At home."

Her forehead falls to his shoulder as and he feels her nod as she takes a deep breath.

 _Home_ , she thought. _That sounds good_.

"We should probably get cleaned up."

He helps her shimmy her dress back down over her hips and she holds onto him as she slips on her forgotten heel, using the stability of his body to find her balance again on unsteady legs. She sees his lips lift in a triumphant smirk, clearly proud of his handiwork, and she rolls her eyes, turning to scrutinize the damage done to her makeup and hair.

"You're awfully pleased with yourself over there," she teases, catching his eye in the mirror as she dabs at her face and chest with paper towels, trying to lessen the sheen of sweat that has settled on her skin.

He wets a towel and wipes it along his face, cleaning off the last traces of her arousal. "I couldn't help myself," he shrugs, pulling his jacket back on.

"Clearly."

Standing at the door, they give each other the once-over and as his gaze falls to her feet, he sees the remains of her lace underwear on the floor. He immediately bends to get them. When he stands, her eyebrow is raised as she looks from the underwear he now grasps in his hands to the grin on his face. "I'm keeping these," he husks, and he slides them into his jacket pocket.

"Jesus." She closes her eyes, whimpering as a fresh wave of arousal settles over her at the gesture, and he seizes the opportunity of her distraction to plant one final fiery kiss to her lips, murmuring and impassioned _I love_ you against her mouth before allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.

"Mm, I love you, too," she hums, pulling away with a gentle hand on his chest. "I'm gonna go grab my bag real quick. Meet you out front?"

##

Olivia is able to dart in and out of the ballroom relatively quickly to grab her things, waving a quick goodbye to Carisi, the only member of her squad she sees, as she hurries to meet Ed outside.

He's reaching for his lower back and grimacing as she approaches. "Don't tell me you pulled something…?" she teases, lacing her fingers with his as they start walking down the street toward her apartment.

"No, actually, this is your fault, Lieutenant." He raises his eyebrows and gives her a sidelong glance.

" _Me_? What did I do?"

"Your heels," he replies simply. Leaning into her ear, he adds in a gruff whisper, "I seem to recall them digging into my back when you came… _the first time_."

She swallows thickly and feels her face flush at the memory. He's getting her worked up again, but she recovers enough to retort, "Not my fault you can't resist me, Captain."

They are stopped at a corner, waiting for the light to change and he looks at her, his gaze so intense she has to remind herself to breathe.

"I really can't, Liv. With you, I'm always gonna want more."

 **##**

 **A/N: You're welcome.**


End file.
